Attachment Joy
by Okaeri-Kairi
Summary: If Yuuri and Viktor let go of each others' hands, they'll die. Or at least, that's what they're telling everyone. Before they know it, the entire Russian figure skating team is obsessed with finding out, even if doing so includes sabotage, stalking, and some serious invasion of privacy.


It was a regular Monday morning as far as the Russian National figure skating team was concerned. Everyone was quiet and subdued as they started arriving at the rink, stifling the occasional yawn and grunting in response to questions they didn't have the energy to address yet. Even Yakov looked grumpier than usual, and Mila managed to fall asleep while she was tying her laces at the rinkside. Georgi and Yurio got on the ice right away, though they did so almost lazily, without much motivation.

Viktor and Yuuri didn't even show up.

But that was also part of the routine. Ever since Yuuri had moved to Russia to live with Viktor, they'd both started coming in to practice a lot later than was the usual for either of them.

"I bet you they're tired out from the stuff they get up to at night," Mila said to her rinkmates after the first week, a lascivious smile on her lips. Yurio made a disgusted noise but Georgi nodded thoughtfully.

"Or maybe they're at it in the mornings," he suggested. "It sounds like something Viktor would do; he probably complains that he doesn't want to get up unless Yuuri gives it to him."

"Ew, stop it! You're giving me mental images!" Yurio yelled, pressing his hands to his ears angrily. "They're fucking disgusting as it is in public, I do _not_ need to think about what they're doing when no one is looking, alright?!"

Mila and Georgi shared a knowing smile and purposefully kept bringing it up for the next two weeks to mess with him. Thankfully, the fun eventually wore out and they stopped.

That Monday, they came in at around 9, three whole hours late, completely unfazed and holding hands. Yakov spotted Viktor and immediately stomped over to him.

"Vitya! This is getting ridiculous!" he shouted, a vein throbbing in his temple. "Practice starts at six, not whenever it damn pleases you!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry," Viktor said cheerfully, not looking at all apologetic. The other skaters turned to watch the scolding, curious to see what insane excuse the famous Viktor Nikiforov would come up with this time. "There was some stuff I had to do and we got caught up."

"Stuff?" Mila said to the others in an undertone, one eyebrow raised. "More like he had to do Yuuri. Look at his _hair."_

Even Yurio had to admit that the Japanese Yuuri looked somewhat roughed up, a thought that really made him want to puke.

"Some _stuff?!"_ Yakov screeched. "I don't care what _stuff_ you were doing, you are a professional and you need to start ACTING LIKE ONE!" He rounded on Yuuri suddenly, causing the younger man to jump. "AND YOU! I expected better from you, Katsuki Yuuri! At least _try_ to keep your coach in line, goddamn it!"

Yuuri went beet red and started to stammer about how Viktor was impossible to control, only to be stopped mid-excuse.

"I don't care, just hurry up and get back out here for warm up already," the old man growled.

"C'mon, you heard him," Viktor said brightly, tugging Yuuri along to the locker room.

"Ugh, my whole day is ruined now," Yurio said, grimacing.

"Don't be so dramatic, Yuri," Georgi said, skating around the younger athlete. "It's no big deal, they're adults and they're in love." He did a ridiculous little pirouette, holding out his arms grandly. "I think it's lovely that they're so open about it," he said wistfully in his deep, melancholy voice. Yurio shot him a death glare.

"I never want to hear you telling _anyone_ that they're too dramatic," he snarled. Mila laughed, joining Georgi.

"Just ignore them," she advised. "As long as they're not doing something dirty in the locker room, who cares?"

"Would they do that though?" Georgi asked seriously. "Yuuri seems so subdued and polite."

"Oh please, don't you remember his short program last year?! I bet he's into some really kinky stu-"

"SHUT UP!" Yurio shouted, skating away and trying desperately to think of something else. Unfortunately Yuuri and Viktor chose that exact moment to join them on the ice, and they were _still holding hands._

Yurio could feel his blood pressure rising.

"You two need to fucking stop this shit!" he said angrily as he glided up to them. "Seriously, this is _work,_ it's not time to mess around!"

"We're not doing anything though," Yuuri said, confused. "We just stepped onto the ice."

"THE HANDS! HANDS! WILL IT _KILL YOU TO LET GO FOR A SECOND?!"_

Yuuri tensed for a moment.

"Yes," Viktor said smoothly, flashing one of his celebrity smiles.

"HAH?!"

"Hmm? What is it Yurio?" Viktor asked, blinking at him innocently. Yurio could _literally_ see red.

"YOU ARE SO _FUCKING ANNOYING!"_ he shouted, jabbing a finger into Viktor's chest. "You too, you stupid katsudon!" he said, rounding on Yuuri. "You're doing it on purpose!"

"No no, it's true!" Viktor said, his eyes sparkling. "If we let go, we'll die! So we have to hold hands aaaaaall the time now."

Yuuri gave a small groan but didn't object. That, more than anything, set Yurio off.

 _"So what, you're just gonna practice while holding hands?!"_

"Sounds good," Viktor grinned, lifting Yuuri's hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "Don't you think so, Yuuri?"

Yuuri went a bit red but otherwise didn't protest. "Y-Yeah, I guess so."

Yurio probably would have hit one of them if Mila hadn't passed by at that exact moment to intervene.

"Just ignore them," she said as she pulled him away, barely containing a laugh. "It's gonna be hilarious when Yakov sees them trying to do their routines like that."

It was; Yurio could think of perhaps three times he'd ever seen Yakov that angry, but even then Yuuri and Viktor refused to let go. Viktor continued to insist on the excuse that they'd die, even bursting out into dramatic wailing and crocodile tears when Yakov told him he was a disgrace to his profession.

"But _Yakov!_ I can't HELP IT!" he cried, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Do you want me to die so badly?! Do you want to see my darling Yuuri and I lying cold and lifeless on the ground?! _WILL YOU BE SATISFIED THEN?!"_

"Viktor, you're over-" Yuuri tried to cut in, but Viktor merely threw his free arm around his fiance's neck and started pretending to sob into his shoulder. Yurio distinctly managed to catch a glimpse of his face for a moment, and those were _definitely_ tears of laughter running down Viktor's face.

Yakov eventually got tired of yelling, and the rest of the day passed exactly the way Viktor wanted it to. And so did the next day. And the next.

And the next.

* * *

After two weeks, the Russian skaters were _dying_ to know what was going on. Georgi and Yurio even saw Yuuri and Viktor changing clothes in the locker room without once breaking the physical contact; when they needed to pull a sleeve on or off, they merely held the other hand instead. Yuuri seemed to have long come to terms with this ridiculous development; he was perfectly at ease during practice, which they somehow _flawlessly_ managed to pull off each time despite that neither of their routines were originally meant for pair skating. They skipped out on the jumps, however, which made Yakov's voice go hoarse after the first few days. Still, Viktor continued to do whatever he pleased, and since he was Yuuri's coach, the younger athlete didn't really have a choice. Not that he seemed to mind all that much.

It was _infuriating._ Even Mila and Georgi were starting to find themselves irked.

"I mean, it's not like I care if they're holding hands," Mila muttered after practice one afternoon. "It just pisses me off that they're flaunting it everywhere, as if daring us to ask why they're being so stubborn about this."

"So just ask and get the damn thing over with already," Yurio growled as he pulled off his skate.

"I _did_ ," she groaned. "And I keep getting the stupid 'we'll die' response. Even the Japanese Yuuri is saying it now."

"What, seriously?!"

"Yeah. With a straight face," she grimaced.

Georgi paused, holding the lace to one of his skates.

"What if it's true?" he asked.

Yurio burst out into laughter. "Don't be fucking stupid, that's just what Viktor and the pig _want_ you to think," he insisted. "I dunno why, but those two are fucking messing with us on purpose, I swear."

"But what's the point?" Mila asked.

"To piss us off? To beat the world record for most disgusting couple in the world?" Yurio replied flatly.

"Doing all that just to annoy us sounds like a lot of work. And if they're not practicing jumps, they're only hurting their own routines," Georgi said. "Something else has to be going on."

"But _what?"_ Mila insisted, obviously desperate to get to the bottom of it.

"Who fucking knows?" Yurio grumbled. "They'll have to give it up eventually, or they'll end up destroying their own careers."

* * *

But half a month passed and the bizarre insistence on hand holding went on.

Yurio had had enough.

"Okay, that's it," he announced as he burst into the restaurant that Mila had invited him and Georgi to after practice. "We're getting to the bottom of this fucking joke," he added as he kicked aside his chair and sat down, arms crossed irritably. His rinkmates both raised their eyebrows at him.

"Viktor and Yuuri again?" Mila asked nonchalantly as she stirred sugar into her tea.

Yurio didn't even reply with words; he gave a disgusted grunt instead.

"What did they do now?" Georgi asked, poring over his menu.

"The same goddamn fucking thing they've been doing all month!" he seethed. "Except today I accidentally knocked into them and Viktor shouted at me for like FIVE MINUTES about how I almost killed them. _I am so done with this fucking stupid bullshit."_

"Ugh, yeah, to be honest it's grating on my nerves now too," Mila grimaced. "I mean, it was funny for a while, but now it's just annoying, and I think they're going to kill Yakov if they keep it up. He looks like he's about to have an aneurysm every time they're at practice."

"There's nothing we can do about it," Georgi said, shrugging. "Just leave them alone."

"Hell no! They're even going to the _bathroom_ together! I mean, they're _using the same god-fucking-damned stall!"_

"Ew, I did _not_ need to know that," Mila groaned.

"Well neither did I, but thanks to Katsudon and his stupid besotted coach I have to see it if I have the bad luck of walking in on them!"

"So what do you propose we do?" she asked, waving her spoon in the air. "Refuse to practice until they stop or something?"

"No, we get to the bottom of it," Yurio said. "You're coming with me."

"What? Where?!"

"Wherever! We're gonna follow them around and prove they're only doing this to fuck with us! They have to let go at _some_ point, and if we get that on camera, then we can just tell them to shut the hell up and quit pissing everyone off!"

"This sounds like a bad idea," Mila said. "But count me in. How about you, Georgi?"

"...Do we get to wear disguises?" he asked seriously.

"Yeah, whatever you want," Yurio said dismissively.

"Then I'm in," Georgi agreed.

* * *

Two days later, on their day off, everyone gathered on the street corner outside of Yuuri and Viktor's apartment in St. Petersburg. They were all wearing sunglasses and hooded sweatshirts, except for Georgi, who had opted for a short blond wig and was wearing a uniform like a student. He looked like an awkward, older version of Yurio.

"Why'd you wear that?!" Yurio hissed when all three of them had gathered. "You're just catching a bunch of attention!"

"You said I could wear a disguise!"

"Yeah, like _us!_ " Yurio insisted, gesturing at himself and Mila violently. "Take the _goddamn wig off!"_

"Oh, they're leaving!" Mila said hurriedly, and all three of them instinctively hid behind the wall, peeking out to watch their targets cross the street, hand in hand.

"Ugh, it's like ten AM, why the hell are they being all mushy so early in the morning?" Yurio grumbled as Viktor kissed Yuuri's cheek.

"Mornings are the sweetest hours to spend with your lover," Georgi sighed longingly. "Anya and I-"

"And that's enough out of you, you lovesick crybaby," Mila scolded, giving Georgi's wig a yank. "Where did you say they were going, Yuri?"

"Shopping I think. They invited me to dinner so that usually means Katsudon is gonna cook. Knowing Viktor, the fridge will be empty."

Both Mila and Georgi stared at him.

"W-what?!"

"How often do they have you over?" Mila asked.

Yurio blushed, pulling his hood over his face. "Wh-who cares about that?! C'mon, we're gonna lose them."

Mila giggled but followed his lead, Georgi right on her heels. As Yurio had guessed, they made straight for the open air market that opened in the summers, and the crowd offered plenty of hiding places to spy from.

"Ok, so I brought a charger, just in case we run out of battery," Mila explained as they all pulled their phones out of their pockets and ducked behind a stall.

"Nice thinking," Georgi said. "We have to be able to take a picture or video of the moment they let go... _if_ they let go."

"They have to," Yurio said firmly.

But they spent all morning trailing after their rinkmates and not _once_ did they let go of each other's hands. There was a moment when Yuuri dropped something while holding a bag in his free hand, but as Yurio and the others readied their cameras, Viktor merely put down his own bag and stooped to pick it up for him, still holding on tightly to Yuuri's fingers.

"Here you go, Yuuri," he said, smiling indulgently at him. Yuuri gave him a soft smile in return.

"Thank you, Vitya."

Yurio pretended to vomit as they leaned in for a kiss.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," he muttered as they continued walking down the marketplace. They were hiding next to a fish stall, glaring after Yuuri and Viktor's retreating backs.

"They _really_ don't want to let go," Mila sighed. "Maybe we should just give it up and go eat, I'm hungry..."

"No way," Yurio insisted. "If they're gonna be this stupid, we're just gonna have to force them to let go," he said, rolling up his sleeves as he stood up. Georgi made a frightened noise.

"W-wait! No, don't do _that!"_ he cried, his eyes wide.

"Why the fuck not?!" Yurio shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly.

"What are we going to do if they really _do_ die?!"

Yurio stared openmouthed at him; he honestly couldn't believe anyone could be this dense.

"They're not gonna _die,_ you _idiot!"_

"But what if they _do?!"_

Yurio didn't even think; he just reached out for the nearest object (which happened to be a dead fish) and smacked Georgi with it in the face repeatedly.

"GET A FUCKING GRIP!" he yelled angrily. "THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY LYING!"

"Yuri! QUIT IT!" Mila said as she pulled him away from Georgi. Not to be deterred, he flung the fish at Georgi one last time, accidentally knocking his ridiculous wig off.

"Hey!" All three of them turned to find an angry looking man glaring at them. "You better pay for that fish," he warned, his hands curled around a rather brutal looking kitchen knife.

Mila reached into her pocket and handed the man a few rubles. He took them and gestured for them to get out. All three of them fled as if their lives depended on it; they even forgot to retrieve the wig or the fish they'd inadvertently bought.

* * *

"Now what?" Georgi asked once they'd put enough distance between themselves and the murderous fish monger. "We lost sight of Viktor and Yuuri."

"Damn it," Yurio growled, kicking at a trash can. "I don't fucking know! Why don't _you_ come up with a plan for once?!"

"How am I supposed to do that when I don't even have my hair anymore?!"

"Oh both of you shut up," Mila said tiredly. "Look, either we give up and go home or we try another approach. I think trying to force them to stop holding hands is actually our best move."

"See?" Yurio smirked. Georgi gave an offended huff.

"Fine, but I'm not being arrested for murder," he said. "You two are the ones responsible."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Yurio said. "So how do we go about it?"

"Maybe if we startled them they'd freak out enough to let go...?"

"So what, we jump out at them in the middle of the street?" Georgi asked.

"I have a better idea," Yurio said, reaching into his jeans pocket. He pulled out a key. "Viktor gave me this because he keeps losing his; I'm not supposed to tell Katsudon about it but whatever, this is important."

"Is that their apartment key?!" Mila gasped.

"Yup."

She exchanged a look with Georgi and they both burst into laughter.

"Yuri, they really _are_ your dads!" she shrieked, slapping Georgi's back.

"What the fuck?! What does that mean?!"

"It means they treat you like their kid," Georgi snickered. "They invite you to dinner, you're apparently at their place enough that you know what their routines are like, and you even have a _key to their apartment!_ You're adopted and you didn't even _notice!"_

Yurio felt his face grow hot and he aimed a swift kick at Georgi's shin.

"Sh-SHUT UP! I only go because Viktor cries if I don't! And it's not like I think Katsudon's cooking is good or anything!"

Even as Georgi swore, rubbing his leg, Mila kept laughing.

"Oh man, we've been joking about this for _months_ but we didn't realize it was _this_ true!" she said through tears.

"UGH, ARE WE GONNA DO THIS OR NOT?!"

"Fine, fine, let's go," she chuckled, wiping her eyes.

Normally, even Yurio would think twice about breaking into someone's home, but he was so sick of the hand-holding that he was willing to do most anything to make it stop. He let them into the apartment without hesitation and closed the door behind them, making sure to lock it.

"We can probably hide in the hall closet," Yurio said. "There's enough room in there for all of us and it will be easy to tell when they come home."

"Which is the closet?" Georgi asked, looking around the room. It was pretty orderly and simple; Yuuri was much cleaner than Viktor, so he made it a point to keep the place looking tidy. Yurio could still remember the horrid messes he'd found the couple of times Viktor had invited him B.K. (Before Katsudon).

"Over here," he said, pulling open one of the hallway doors. As he'd thought, there was plenty of space for several people to hide in, though he didn't have time to say so before the sound of someone turning the knob of the front door echoed loudly.

 _"Shit, get in here, now!"_ he hissed urgently, and Georgi and Mila nearly tripped over their feet to cram themselves in the closet, Yurio right behind. He only just managed to close the door when the front door unlocked.

 _"Get your phones ready,"_ Mila whispered, and three lights turned on almost simultaneously as Yurio prepared to throw the door open. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. First came the sound of several shopping bags being dropped on the wooden floor, and then a heavy thud, like someone hitting a wall. Yurio frowned, about to say that maybe burglars had broken in, when they heard it.

 _"Viktor..."_ came a loud moan from the hallway, and the Russian skaters all froze in place. They could practically _hear_ the expletives going through each other's heads.

 _Shit, fuck, WHAT THE HELL!_ Yurio thought. _THEY JUST GOT BACK AND THEY'RE ALREADY GONNA FUCK IN THE HALL?!_

Mila had gone a dark shade of red in the bright light of her phone, and Georgi had put his hands over his ears, muttering something to himself that sounded like "serious invasion of privacy, I knew we shouldn't have come...!"

"Call my name again, louder," Viktor's voice said sultrily, and they heard Yuuri make an incredibly suggestive sound. Yurio was going to hurl.

"NOPE, NOT DOING THIS!" he shouted as he kicked the door open and came face to face with Viktor pinning Yuuri against the wall, one hand halfway up his shirt and a bright red mark on the Japanese Yuuri's neck. They were both staring at Yurio blankly, but they were _still fucking holding hands._

"Y-Yurio?!" Yuuri cried, blushing red as he pushed Viktor away slightly, smoothing down his shirt. "Why are you here?! And... _MILA AND GEORGI TOO?!_ " His rinkmates shuffled forward, ashamed.

"I had a key from Viktor, okay?" Yurio growled, pointing a finger at him.

"I trusted you with that, Yurio!" Viktor frowned. "I didn't give it to you so you could get together a weird peeping tom group!"

 _"NO ONE IS INTERESTED IN PEEPING ON YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD,"_ Yurio shouted. "All we want is to _MAKE YOU STOP HOLDING HANDS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"_

Both Yuuri and Viktor blinked at him for a moment, then looked down at their entwined hands.

"I'm not giving in," Yuuri said suddenly, staring at Viktor firmly. Viktor's eyes sparkled.

"Well neither am I, Yura," he said brightly.

"Oh really?" Yuuri asked. "Because, you _do_ know they're not gonna leave until you let go..." He leaned in to whisper in Viktor's ear, though unfortunately Yurio heard every word. "Which means you're not getting any."

Viktor bit his lip and groaned.

 _"No fair,"_ he whined, giving his lover the best puppy dog face he could muster. "Can't we just do it at the same time?!"

"No," Yuuri said simply, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Yurio was just about to tell them to stop flirting and explain what was going on when Viktor sighed and finally _finally,_ let go of Yuuri's hand.

"Fine, it's my loss," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. Yuuri beamed but then seemed to remember there were people in their apartment. He gave an awkward cough.

"Oh, uhm... we're done now, so you should... probably... leave," he managed to say. Mila bristled with anger.

"Oh come on! You can't just let go and not tell us what the hell that was all about!" she shouted.

"You two were holding hands for over a _month! WHAT THE FUCK?!"_ Yurio said, jabbing his finger into Yuuri's chest. _"SPILL. NOW."_

"Uh, guys..." Georgi said, but neither Mila nor Yurio seemed to hear him.

"WELL?!" They asked again.

Yuuri stuttered, unsure how to address two angry Russians who had been caught trespassing in his home.

"Guys..."

"SHUT UP!" Yurio said over his shoulder. But at that point Viktor pulled him away from Yuuri by the back of his hoodie and pushed him in Georgi's direction.

"Just hurry up and go already," he said impatiently. "Everything you want to know is on Instagram, alright? Now. Get out. _All_ of you," he said pointedly. He waited until all three skaters were pushed out the door before he shut it closed and sighed.

"Well, I may have lost the game, but I'm not losing _this,"_ he said, grabbing Yuuri by the waist and pulling him forward. Yuuri laughed.

"No one said you would," he said, reaching up to kiss him. "As long as you remember that I love you most," he grinned.

"Hmph, just because you tricked me into letting go..."

"What trick?" Yuuri said softly, his breath hot in Viktor's ear. "I'm delivering _exactly_ what I promised, Viktor..."

Outside the door, Georgi shoved his phone in Mila and Yurio's faces.

"I was _trying_ to tell you!" he said. "Chris just posted saying that Yuuri won a bet they made a month ago."

"What bet?!" Mila asked as she took the phone and scrolled frantically. Yurio pulled out his own phone to read the post.

 _LOL, so a month ago, Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor Nikiforov, and I got shit drunk and ended up making a bet. Viktor said he loved Yuuri so much that he could go forever without letting go of his hand, so I told him I bet he couldn't do it. Yuuri said he would probably last longer than Viktor because of stamina and having a better memory, so in the end, we all bet five thousand bucks on who would let go first. If Yuuri let go first, Viktor would get the money. If Viktor let go, Yuuri would win. And if they both gave up, I'd win._

 _Turns out Viktor caved today, lmao so I guess his fiance is getting five grand as a wedding gift._

Yurio nearly chucked his phone over the railing.

"HEY YOU BASTARDS BETTER BE DONE SCREWING AROUND BY DINNER! YOU OWE ME A PORK CUTLET BOWL, ASSHOLES!" he shouted, pounding on the door loudly.

"I doubt they're gonna have you over for dinner _now,"_ Mila scoffed.

Yurio just grunted.

"I don't even care, they _owe_ me after putting me through this shit. I really fucking hate these two," he muttered to himself as he sauntered down the stairs.

* * *

 **Notes:**

This was harder to write than I thought it would be pfft. I guess I'm so tangled up in the SepAnx canon that writing these idiots in a different context doesn't come as easily anymore, lol.

Anyway, this was a request for my BFF/patron, Xum, who asked for an AU where Viktor and Yuuri can't let go of each other's hands or they'll die (He also inspired the title, which is literally "Separation Anxiety" except he went and looked up antonyms and ended up with "Attachment Joy" LOL). Instead I wrote this trainwreck of a story because I'm too creatively drained to actually come up with a background for a semi-serious take on that. SORRY, XUM. HOPE IT'S OK.

Leave me a comment and I'll happily respond ASAP; I love hearing back from my readers. Hasta luego~


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